Chapter Text
It’s funny.
More bitter than funny, truly. But he still chuckles. The chuckle is bitter too.
Three-piece suit wasn’t his idea but a requirement and the tie does nothing but suffocate him.
The music starts. It’s a tender beautiful melody and as he searches for the name in his mind, it becomes apparent that it’s not there.
With the first accords Chan feels his body move on its own, a certain sort of kinetic energy, as he turns around and the first thing that greets him is your blinding smile. Then he sees the rest: the white dress, the bouquet of lilies, small pearl earrings. You are glowing with happiness. His father is leading you slowly so that your clumsy self wouldn’t fall from whatever-inch heels you’re wearing, he’s grinning at you - a sight Chan never thought he’s ever seen, his father grinning. He even looks smug, like a proud man giving his daughter away; you were always his daughter. Not by blood. But from the start he’s accepted you as his daughter and the bond the two of you have is showing now very brightly with that grin.
And suddenly nothing else really matters anymore. Your eyes meet for a moment and the amount of happiness in yours extract the smile out of him as well. You are happy, you are shining, your skin and your eyes….all of you.
…my love…my love…my love…
He doesn’t think he could have ever imagined something like that when you met.
1. I.
Three years ago. Summer. One of the weekends he’s spent in his and Felix’s parents house outside of the city. That’s when it happened…
The heat is unforgiving and the sun is burning through the window even with the AC on full in his room.
Chan has been working his ass off in the University this whole year and is finally able to relax during the summer. That includes to officially sleep till noon and not feel guilt afterwards.
This time two things factor in his waking up a little after 1pm: his stomach is begging for food and there is a loud laughter coming from downstairs…or the back yard. But he’s sure the parents are out for their annual trip to Jeju…
His stomach is in serious knots by now so he quickly dives into the shower, dries himself not even trying to pretend he’s planning to do anything about the wet hair and throws on the first pair of jeans he can get his hands on.
“Yah! Felix are you kidding me, man!?” Chan hears a cheerful voice, the one he actually knows. He’s pretty sure it’s Hwang Hyunjin, he’s in Felix’s year in the university and Chan wouldn’t probably remember his name if he wasn’t also a newbie in one of his best friend’s, Minho, dance sections. Minho was impressed when the lanky boy showed up at the start of the year. And Chan knows it’s almost impossible task to impress his friend, even less possible to make him admit it out loud.
Speaking about his friends…Chan fishes the phone out of his jeans all the while trying to put the shirt on and failing since shooting a text to the group chat is more important.
With his phone in-between his teeth he finally pulls the t-shirt on but not before entering the kitchen. HIs torso is on display as he only then registers the running water in the sink .
Chan whips his head ready to greet whoever of the guys is there and freeze in his tracks.
You look back with your hands under the water washing what looks like to be the shot glasses, one of your eyebrows slightly up and you do not look very impressed.
THAT is very interesting in Bang Chan’s opinion. He finally drags his shirt down so that it would fully cover the six pack he’s busted his ass working on and chuckles lightly. “Hi!”
“Hi.” You answer giving him a small smile and a nod only to go back to the task at hand.
Chan is not a player, not really. But he knows girls check him out all the time. It’s not for sport…not really. But this one…she almost doesn’t spare him a glance. And he likes a fair game. So why not make it entertaining?
“Have we…last night?…” He asks feigning forgetfulness or an empty head after a hangover as one of his hands point up the stairs.
“Oh no,” You in turn feign shock to play along. It takes a lot of him not to laugh right away. “I’m just doing the dishes here.”
“Oh, I see.” He nods, grinning. “Sure?”
“Positive.” She doesn’t look at him but he spots one corner of her lip curve eves so slightly.
“Hmm. I’m Chan, by the way.” He offers.
“I guessed as much.” There’s another curve of the same lip corner. “I’m Y/N.”
“Well Y/N, nice to meet you. I guess I should probably head out to grab some lunch with my friends…”
“More like breakfast.” You interruption is served smoothly and he bites down on his lip, face split with another grin.
“I’m inclined to agree with that.” Chan agrees, his wet hair dancing as he nods. “I’ll be going then unless you’re not sure about…you know last night…”
“Really? I mean do they usually stay and get some cleaning done or something?” You finally turn to face him, mirth clearly dancing in your eyes.
Chan cracks. “I’ll see you Y/N.”
“Bye Chan.”
He leaves though something is begging him to stay. This serendipity-like feeling he doesn’t remember having before.
“Y\N you done there? We really need those glasses!” He hears while searching for his car keys in the hall. It’s definitely Felix calling from the back yard, his deep voice bright with laughter.
“I’m coming, you young alcoholics!” Your voice calls back.
Chan chuckles once again before finally getting out of the door.
It’s already dark when he returns. There’s still an old BMW parked near the house so Hyunjin must be crushing at their’s.
The house is quiet and Chan is not really surprised to find that the Drama Lama of his brother’s is knocked out on the couch though he wishes the younger boy would use one of the guest rooms.
Chan tries to be as silent as possible as he makes his way to the kitchen. It’s clean, there’s no food on the table or the counter, the dishes are done and no empty bottles in sight. Somehow he thinks he knows who to thank that their parents house doesn’t look a deserter.
He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and turns to head for the stairs and up to his room when he hears a faint humming. It’s coming from the open door to the back yard. As Chan travels the length of the kitchen to the door, the humming transforms into words:
“…but I can't find the words
Every time we say goodbye
Baby, it hurts
When the sun goes down
And the band won't play…
I'll always remember us this way…”
“You have a nice voice.” Chan says quietly, holding the door frame with one of his shoulders, a small smile on his face and a bottle of water still in his grip.
You turn around, surprised. You were pretty sure everyone was already asleep. But sleep wasn’t your biggest ally lately, you could go to bed at 3am or later. It was probably due to all the stress of the final exams that finished mare three weeks ago that was finally getting to you. It was really starting to be exhausting but at least it’s finally summer.
You look cozy occupying one of the wooden lounge chairs, a blanket over your legs, as you look at the darkness of the night sky, mumbling the words of the song. He almost didn’t want to say anything. But he does.
“It’s flattering but not exactly true.” You say finally but smile.
“I didn’t say you were Madonna.” He reasons coming out of the house. “But your voice is nice. It’s got a…calming vibe to it or something.”
You bite your lip slightly because there’s an urge to respond to the Madonna comment but you simply nod and say ‘thank you’.
“Can’t sleep?” He asks and takes a place on the chair next to yours.
“By now it seems like it’s a lost cause.” You chuckle under your nose. “My pattern is definitely broken after the exam weeks. It’s just…dead and gone.”
“Oh I remember my first year. I didn’t sleep for the whole exam week and then was sleeping like a dead man for two after that.” He takes a sip of his water and shakes his head lightly.
“So I still have a chance?”
“Definitely.” Chan looks back at you and nods.
There’s a small silence as you look back at the sky and after a while back at him:
“Why aren’t you heading to bed?”
“Not that tired yet.” He replies just as a traitorous yawn breaks his words.
You laugh and he has to follow. “You should go up and get some rest, Chan.”
“I’m enjoying it here.” He doesn’t want to say that he thinks that if he leaves the two of you will never see each other again.
But you seem to read his thoughts. He hopes he didn’t say anything out loud. “You’ll see me tomorrow.”
“Will I?”
“Well, I’ll have to sleep somewhere and it’s already 2:30 so I don’t see the point in leaving tonight.”
“Okey.” He agrees finally. “But you promised.”
You grin. “Not really but sure.”
“Will you sing a lullaby?”
“Do you want to wake up alive?”
He smirks. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Night, Chan.”
He sleeps soundly that night.
You’re not sure if this is a coincidence but next time you see your best friend’s older brother it’s only four days later. And it’s not in their parents’ house.
“Chan?” You ask but the man in front of you is engulfed in his phone.
It’s a 24hour shop not far from your apartment building. Definitely nothing fancy.
He’s siting on a high stool, a plastic bowl of ramyeon in front of him with his eyes fixed on the phone’s screen in his right hand.
“Chan?” You repeat and this time he turns around, blinking, slightly disoriented.
“Y/N?? What are you…what are you doing here?” He stutters a little. Maybe because he doesn’t really look like that overly confident flirt you’ve seen four days ago but just a normal guy who’s obviously exhausted, wears all black and eats instant noodles at midnight in a godforsaken 24hr shop.
“I live not far from here.” You raise a bag full of strawberry milk, a bottle of soju and a couple snacks. “What are you doing here?”
He points in the direction of your university. “I use a studio in our department. Next year’s my last so….”
“Oh my god…” A widest smile splits your face. “You’re a nerd! A workaholic!”
“No….” He tries but takes a look at the things in front of him (which is a standard nerd kit) just gives up. “Caught me.”
“Wow. Didn’t expect that.” You admit.
He moves a stool beside him for you to sit. You accept and put your groceries on the counter only do dig out one pack of strawberry milk.
“What did you expect?” Chan studies you. You and your strawberry milk.
“Hmmm…I’m not really sure.” You murmur. “But this Chan is kinda nice. I have a thing for hidden nerds.”
He grins. “I’ll tell Jisung you’re interested.”
You laugh. He does too.
“You do that.”
You talk a lot that night. About everything and nothing. About your studies because he was sure you were in the music department with Felix and is surprised that you’re an Art Management student. You tell him the story how you’ve met his brother when both you and Felix were still in preschool and before their parents got married, how you had to move to Guangzhou to live with your grandmother after the car accident that’s taken your parents’ lives. Chan listens carefully, ramyeon long forgotten, as he sips on his soda instead. He tells you about the 3Racha or at least what they (he and two of his friends; he wonders how you know Jisung and you say it’s because it’s a small world and that guy is like a hurricane since he knocked into you spilling half of his coffee on your white skirt your first day in the university!) are planning to do with project they call 3Racha.
You don’t realise how time flies until it’s almost 2.30am.
You chuckle and point at the clock on the wall. “Feels like it’s becoming a tradition.”
“Not a bad one.” Chan agrees with a mischievous grin.
“I should get going.” You say and get up.
“I’ll walk you.” He removes the trash and grabs his phone from the counter.
You consider telling him that it’s only a ten minute walk but hold your tongue because you really enjoy his company.
He walks you to your building and when it’s time for a goodbye, he leans in and leaves a light kiss on your cheek. He doesn’t ask for you number or suggest you meet up soon. He lingers for a fraction longer than necessary and then steps back and watches while you go in. He leaves only after you’re gone whom his view.
He doesn’t ask for your number only to add you on facebook. Next day. You get a massage that he’ll be very hungry by 8pm and doesn’t want to eat alone. You laugh and tell him to ask his friends to help him out with that predicament. He laughs at your reply on his phone too but tells you he’ll be near your apartment building at eight.
When you get downstairs he’s already waiting, his side to the hood of the car.
“You’re late.” He says with a smug grin pointedly looking a his wristwatch.
It’s 8.06pm.
“Fashionably.” You reply stepping closer as he straightens to his full hight.
He has at least a head on you. It’s not that he’s overly tall, you’re just short.
His eyes seem to be full of mirth. “Get in then.”
It’s a challenge. Or not. Or maybe a little. You step back, your eyes still locked, and go around the car to the passenger seat.
“Pizza or Pasta?” He asks, taking a his seat behind the wheel.
“Neither.” You buckle up.
“Korean or Chinese?” He turns on the key and ignites the engine.
“Korean.”
“Gimpab or bibimpab?”
“Bibimpab.”
“Okey.” Chan nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer and turns the car in the direction of Namsandong.
You chuckle, you really thought you’d just go for the nearest place to grab anything to not die from hunger but the man next to you seem to have something else on his mind.
He takes you to Mokmyeoksanbang. You’ve been in this place only once ages ago. It’s not a big place in traditional Korean style surrounded by a sea of trees. A little bit touristy, you’d say, but still very nice.
“They have the best bibimpab in the city.” Chan explains.
Apparently the manager who’s name is Seo Eunkwang is a distant relative of Changbin, one of Chan’s closest friends, so Chan knows the older man almost all his life. Eunkwang, who’s smiling a lot and wiggles eyebrows at Chan without realising you actually see it too, leads the two of you to a table in the far corner of the terrace in a secluded area.
You also learn that Chan is indeed right: you’ve never eaten a better bibimpab. You drink tea. And talk. A lot.
Chan’s eyes follow your movements as he asks about what brought you into art and about your favourite food. You retaliate with wondering about his music and plans for the future.
After a while questions grow more bold.
“Boyfriends?” He asks.
“A couple. They are waiting at home for me to get back so we could resume the orgy I had to cut short because you said you were hungry.”
He almost spits his tea. You smirk.
“You got me.” Chan clears his throat.
“Define your question. I’ll answer.” You take another sip from your own cup.
“You dating anyone?”
“This looks a lot like a date to me.” You look at him. “And I’m not a fan of seeing more than one person at a time. So if it’s not a date-date I’d like to know now.”
Chan cracks a one-sided smile. He likes it: that you’re being…you. He thinks it’s the real you. Like there’s no folding screen that is showing his someone else. He’s sure it’s the real girl he’s with at the moment. So he says something which is a first for him. He’s never tried it before. “It is. A date.”
“Good.”
This time when the car pools to your apartment building you turn to him, still comfortable on the passenger seat. “I actually had a great time.”
“You…sound surprised or something?” He turns to you, eyes wide, mouth agape. His face looking quite comical.
“Well you never know with these things.” You put a forefinger to your lip, as if thinking. “I told Lixie to be ready to call me and pretend ‘something bad’ happened so that I could get out of a bad date.”
You smirk at his expression.
“You stir a very new feeling in me.” He finally says leaning in closer to you.
“Oh really? What’s that?” You mirror him.
“I’m torn. It’s either a desire to kill you or kiss you.”
“Hmmm. You’re either a serial killer or…”
You don’t get to finish what you’re saying because his lips are on yours and he’s angling you to press your paper back to the armrest in between you two so that his face would be over yours. The effect takes quickly and he’s not waiting to deepen the kiss, his tongue skilfully sliding between your lips to get a taste. You gasp only slightly, only a little surprised that he is such a force. This opportunity is enough and you have no doubts about who’s in charge here. Your hand fly up to his neck and in a moment it’s woven into his hair. You tug and Chan grunts.
He moves from your lips abruptly but you’re still only inches apart.
“You…we should probably stop here.” He breathes out as if his own actions came as a surprise to him.
You nod as your hand slide from behind his neck slowly. You feel him shiver and it sends a rebellious impulse of satisfaction inside of you. “You’re probably right.”
“Yep.” You are pretty sure he has more trouble with his anatomy than you do right now.
You bite on your lower lip to hold the smile in. “I’ll see you when I see you then.”
With that your hand goes back to his face and takes a feather-like hold on his chin, turning his face back to you. You press a small kiss to his lips not leaving any time for him to respond. And exit the car.
Chan really has to calm down. Really.
He’s usually really good at controlling himself but…
“Yeah, you’ll probably see me tomorrow.” He mumbles to no one in particular, watching as your figure disappears behind the entrance door of your building.